Wings: Deep Within
by KrystlesMethod
Summary: An instant classic, a tale of love, conflict, and loss. Five years after the conclusion of Gundam Wing, Heero and Duo find their paths crossed again. After this fateful encounter, a new odyssey unfurls before the two as they begin the long journey that
1. Chapter 1

Wings

Deep Within,  
Our forgotten souls  
Lies a heart,  
Pure of Gold  
It's hold is fast,  
It's tale is true  
As the whispers carry,  
From Me to You

Upon these Wings,  
He shall fly  
And He shall smile,  
Until the day he dies  
He spreads such joy,  
And bestows on us  
A deathly fear,  
And an everlasting blood lust

Because He's a kamikaze Angel,  
He's made mistakes he'll always regret  
His love is forbidden,  
But never does he fret  
For His Fallen Angel shall come,  
One day  
At what price,  
I dare not say...

Deep Within

Chapter One

I closed my eyes.

Something you really shouldn't do when walking down the streets of New York, but shut them I did. The endless chatter of the people, the shouts from taxi drivers, the screeching of tires, the roar of the subway beneath my feet--it all seemed faint and far away. It was like I was sitting in the back of my mind, quiet and alone.

A quick breath passed my lips as someone rammed into me, and snapped me back into reality. "Hey, watch it buddy!" he shouted harshly, I only glanced at him for a moment--something else had caught my eye. I had been turned to the window of a small pizza place, and in it, in the back, behind the counter, I saw a boy. His long, brown braid twisted in between his fingers, his form hunched over the counter.

I stared at him for the longest time.

The year was A.C. 201, and the last time I has seen him was five years earlier, at

my wedding. Relena had invited everyone in the universe it seemed like, and Duo  
of course was present. "Thank God these two finally got hitched!" was his toast.

I sighed.

When I was offered a job on Earth, I very much wanted to leave space and return to solid ground, but Relena's position held her in The Colonies. We discussed it for a few seconds and decided she would stay and I would leave (it was a very lucrative job). I didn't think that we were separated, she was still my wife, and I still her husband, only we were so far away from each other. Sometimes she just felt like a memory. A hazy spot in my mind. The whole war felt blurred, unreal.

I looked in the small restaurant, no one was there but him. So I opened  
the door and stepped inside. A little bell sang out a few jagged rings. The boy stirred  
slightly at the disruption, stood up straight, stretched his arms out, and let out a huge yawn.

I was mistaken...

He was a man.

He still had the sharp nose and taut jawbone, the large violet eyes and the long chestnut hair--but he was taller, and his muscles were more defined. I stepped up to the counter as he finished his yawn, I remembered it was quite dark out and was probably late. He straightened out and opened his eyes as he simultaneously said, "Hey..." his eyes grew a bit wide and his voice softened "there..."

He recognized me.

"Hi, Duo," I said nonchalant, as if we had exchanged greetings everyday for the past five years, but I hadn't spoken to him since the wedding.

"Heero?"

"Yeah, it's me Duo,"

"My God. I haven't seen you in ages," he said at length.

"I know..." my gaze fell to the floor.

"What are you doing in New York? I thought you and Relena were living in the  
Colonies."

"Yes well, she still is,"

His face jerked into a frown, "Did you two, break up?"

"...I don't think so," I said looking back up to him. "I was offered a job in New York, but Relena insisted that she needed to stay..." I noticed that Duo was staring at me, those immense violet orbs looked me up and down and rested comfortably at my face.

"So I left and she stayed,"

"But you two don't plan on a divorce or anything--do you?"

"No, nothing of the sort,"

"Well that's good, you two are just so cute together," All the aspects of his face changed to show that broad grin of his. "It would be a shame to waste that. I remember your wedding day, you two looked so happy to finally be together," he laughed slightly, "I even think you were actually smiling,"

"Oh, well, I guess it always hasn't been that way."

"Wha-do-ya mean Heero?"

"Well, I guess you could just say she's not all that happy anymore, it's just... I don't want to talk of it right now,"

"Okay Heero, your call," he spoke softly with a hint of concern. He then glanced down at his watch and excused himself to the back room.

After a few moments he came back, pizza box in hand. His apron had been  
discarded and his head now bore that old black cap of his. The hat was seeming the same one he had wore during the war, but the rest of his attire had changed.

He didn't look so--strange anymore. His pants weren't puffing out in the sides, they were just plain jeans, and they were faded like he had worn them for years. Instead of the out-of-place priests color and black shirt with no buttons, he wore a tight gray T-shirt that clung to him like an extra skin.

He placed the pizza on the counter and started to lock up the register after putting some of his own money in. "You want to share this with me Heero?" he offered, "It's got everything on it."

"Sure," I said blankly, "I was on my way home, I live right around the corner, want to come up?"

He smirked again.

Duo let out a long whistle, "…Wow, Heero, this is a nice pad… Sure beats my hole-in-the-wall…" He walked into the kitchen and set the pizza as well as his hat on the counter, "Do you live here alone?"

"Yes," I said, setting down my briefcase and loosening my tie, "my company provided me with this flat, fully furnished… It's generous, but I find it to be impersonal…"

Duo had already started on his first piece and had stolen one of my beers, "What kind of work do you do…?"

"I'm a stock broker…"

"Wow, a big shot Wall Street stock broker," he grinned with all his teeth,

"You've got it made, Heero…"

I suppose to Duo I was successful and could afford a comfortable life, the truth was though I didn't feel like I was doing anything significant. Not like the old days. During the war we had been shaping the future of our universe, and I had just been following orders. Now that we were civilians we were free to live our lives as we pleased, all I did was make money.

I made my way to the white leather couches in the sitting area and let my weight fall into their cushions. "I've been thinking about getting a dog," I said, "...Or something,"

Duo just laughed as he walked towards me with another beer and slice of pizza, which he handed to me before he sat down, "It'll just bite you... Or you'll forget to feed it,"

I was slightly offended at Duo's lack of faith in my ability to nurture another being, but I know he was just being his obnoxious self, "...This place just doesn't have that 'lived in' feel,"

"I know what you mean... You don't have any color, there's too much white," he took a quick look around my apartment, looking further down the halls into the other rooms, "I could help you with that... I happen to be an artist,"

I looked up from my amber bottle to look him in the eyes, "Artist...?"

He grinned to me, knowing my surprise, "Yeah, the pizza jig just pays the bills, my real work is done in the studio. I can understand why you're surprised, I didn't know it about myself until a few years ago. When I moved here and got some friends I was thrown in the hip, New York beat nick scene. I really got into it, and once I picked up a brush for myself I realized I actually had some talent,"

To be honest, I felt envious then. Duo was pursuing a dream and doing what he loved, while I was just working for the sake of working. I realized how dissatisfied I was with my life, but everything was about to change after that night.

Slowly my eyes opened and I felt a heavy warmth on my chest. I blinked a few times, letting my eyes adjust to the light. I peered down at the chestnut mass against my chest. Duo had fallen asleep on top of me, I watched him for a few moments. He had his arms curled to his chest, and his finger tips rested gently against the skin a few undone buttons from my crisp white dress shirt had exposed.

He looked so peaceful, I didn't have the heart to wake him. So I, ever so gently, slipped from under him and rested him back onto the couch. I then headed into the bathroom and began my usual morning ritual.

I sighed and let my eyelids drop heavily. The cold water felt surprisingly wonderful cascading over my warm skin. I arched my back and let it run down my chest. Opening my eyes, I stared up at the ceiling. I didn't feel tired that morning, instead I felt well rested. Even though Duo and I had stayed up until the early morning.

After I had lathered, rinsed, and skipped the repeat, I stopped the water and secured a towel around my waist before I stepped out. I could hear the TV while I pulled on my robe. He was up, my shower must of woken him.

I turned to the mirror. Persian blue eyes stared back at me. His dark brown, choppy hair hung in his face, it had an almost greenish hue to it. I tilted my head to the side a bit. His expression was so austere.  
I hated myself so much.

Why couldn't I be happy like Duo? I wondered why he was so giddy and I was so... solemn. We had both been in the same war. I'm almost certain we both had empty childhood's. How could he be so blithe? Life's a bitch--and then you die.

I stepped out of the bathroom and there he was, sitting on the end of the couch, his chest heaved up and down slowly as large breaths past his partly open lips. His eyes were wide open as they stared at the glossy screen of the television and seemed to have ashocked look in them.

My brows furrowed as I turned my gaze to the screen. It depicted  
a small building (for NY anyway) smoldering in smoke, half of it was up in flames and firemen were still trying to put it out. It was chaos, there were still people screaming. A news reporter talked over the scene. The fire had been going on since late last night, 3:00 am I think she said. It was suspected to be arson.

"That..." Duo spoke flatly with a shaky voice, "That was my building..."


	2. Chapter 2

1Duo was a mess.

Hair frayed out of his three-foot long braid. Long bangs stuck out at every angle no matter how many times he ran a hand through them, which was more of a nervous action more than a self-grooming one. His eyes seemed dull as they jetted from one charred, blackened item to the next. His hands twitched every now-and-then, like he had one too many cups of coffee. His breaths were slow and jagged.

I turned my gaze to my black surroundings. I had seen burnt buildings before, but not this close. Absolutely everything was completely destroyed. And I'm not exaggerating. If I had seen this place before the crime was committed--I wouldn't have recognized it.

"Who in Hell would do this!" Duo said more as just a statement than a question.

"Definitely not just some kids," I answered anyway, "Whoever did do this knew what they were doing . . . "

"Duo," I tried to speak with comforting words, "it'll be all right, they were nothing but things, just material possessions. Life will go on,

He turned around quickly to face me. With furrowed eye brows he spit out, "Some of those things had something called 'sentimental value'! Heero, this was my life, my home! Sure sometimes the window would get stuck, or the drains would get clogged, but it was mine! And the people that lived here, they were my friends, my fucking family! And they died Heero! They died! They're dead! They're all gone! Once again I have no control over my life, over who lives and who doesn't . . ."

He hung his head, covered his face with his palms and sobbed gently. 'Oh crap.' I thought, 'I can't handle this kind of stuff. What should I do? I should at least say something,'

"You've changed." I said. Not exactly what I should have said, but that's what was on my mind. He raised his head, and I could tell by the look on his face that he wanted an explanation. "I've never seen you cry before. In the old days you wouldn't have been so, sensitive over such a thing."

"Well," he said in a strong tone, "I've only had one other home. And it and my family were taken from me in the same manner,"

"It's okay Duo, " I said to achieve my goal of being comforting, "I understand how you must feel,"

In truth I had no idea what was going on in his head, what kind of pain he must be feeling.

Gingerly, I stepped across the burnt floor and lightly placed a hand on his shoulder blade. He looked up and gave a weak smile as I gazed down at him.

The hand slowly started to slip down to the small of his back as I said "Come on, Duo, I don't think there's much to be saved here." He nodded absently and started to walk with me as I ushered him out. 

"...Wait!" he cried out, and turned on his heal. He ran--stumbled--across what used to be his apartment and pulled open what seemed to be his old closet door. He blinked a few times clue-less and started to rummage through his destroyed wardrobe that seemed to be made up of mostly T-shirts and jeans.

"Here it is!" He said to himself and started to stand up straight. He shifted a small, unscathed, metal box from one hand to the other as he slipped on a leather jacket which had also escaped the flames.

"What's that, Duo?" I asked gesturing at the box while he walked back up to me. "Oh," he said looking down at it "just . . . just my life in a box,"

I blinked a few times.

He slapped that big grin back on his face. "Why don't we go get some coffee?" he said nonchalantly, walking onto the fire escape. "Yeah, we should leave," I said following him down to the street, "this place may collapse at any moment,"

We started to walk away from the gloomy scene when Duo stopped and turned. I turned as well and we found a small boy, about the age of three or four, tugging on Duo's pant leg. His midnight black hair had a choppy look to it and hung over his wide, dark, mahogany, eyes. His creamy, tan skin looked like it would break if you took him by the arm too hard.

"Jesus," he said softly (in the Spanish pronunciation), "what are you doing out here?" He kneeled and held out a hand which the boy took. His eyes had that solemn, faraway look in them. "Jesus," he spoke again in that soft, gentle tone, "where is your mommy and daddy?"

Suddenly, Duo's expression jerked from calm puzzlement, to shocking realization.  
He stood up straight and started to walk to the front of the building. Jesus, who hadn't answered Duo, and didn't look like he was going to, walked close beside him.

I followed them, although Duo had never instructed me to. He had become as quite as the boy.

"Excuse me," Duo said flatly when he approached a police officer, who turned to face him, "do you have a list of the deceased?" The man nodded and handed him a clipboard.

As Duo looked over the names, to me the scene looked as if it had been drained of all colors and emotion--except for immense sorrow. My eyes literally shifted to see nothing but blacks, grays, and dull whites. The silence was defining.

Everyone, Duo, the police officer, had become as quite as the eerie little boy. The silence, the ear throbbing silence, was driving me mad.

He handed the clipboard back to the man and picked up Jesus as he took a deep sigh. They boy wrapped his arms around Duo's neck and stared at the horizon. Duo talked to the officer a bit more, but I couldn't hear his words, I only say his lips move.

"Come with me," Duo said, starting to walk away. I turned to follow.

But I couldn't walk.

I had to run.

Run from this place, run from the awful memories that were starting to resurface. Things I had long since forgotten, or at least tried my damnedest to forget. My legs were stiff as steel beams, but I forced them to move and I walked away with Duo.

"What is going on?" I asked him once I had regained enough sanity. He sighed once more. "Jesus," he said uneasily "Jesus, was orphaned by the fire. He has no other relatives in this country. I knew his parents, Maria and Joseph. Poor Maria, she was such a wonderful lady. She used to keep white roses right outside her door, which was often open, so that I could see them. I love white roses, but they make me sneeze so badly! I really feel bad for Jesus,"

"What's wrong with him?" I asked with the same uneasiness. "He's so quite."

"He's, deaf. He can talk but not very well, so he doesn't speak a lot. Some people think he's just ignorant when they meet him. But he's just, unaware . . . "

By this time we had come to another person standing around the withering chaos of the once building, a middle-aged woman in a pant suit and glasses.

"Are you the social worker?" Duo asked her up-front. She nodded and introduced herself. Duo explained Jesus' situation and she listened with saddened understanding. He handed over the boy to her, and she gave her business card, which Duo pocketed with a thanks. He watched the woman take Jesus into the car and drive away before he turned back to face me. I looked into his tired eyes, and he had a sort of saddened smile on his lips. As if he found some strange humor in it all. Wasn't it just strange that horrible things happened to good people? As if we were all Job, and each day God brought pain and suffering to his followers simply to prove a point to Satan.

"Let's skip the coffee," his words broke me from my dreary thought, "I need to visit somebody,"

When we got out of the cab, we were in front of a quint music store. Duo led me inside and yelled out, "Good morning!" as the door was closing behind us.

"Duo!" a familiar voice called back, and a blonde head popped up from under the counter. When he saw me standing there next to Duo, in my full length black trench coat, his sapphire eyes widened and turned his head quickly to call behind him, "Trowa, come out here quick! You won't guess who's here!"

Trowa came striding out of the back room. His form was tall, even taller than mine now, and his muscles seemed heavy and dense on his bones. It was like someone was leading a champion steed out from the stables. Those green eyes locked onto me and stared. Quatre came around to shake my hand warmly, and smiled up to me saying things like 'how long it's been' and 'we've missed you' Trowa took his long steps toward me and shook my hand as well. His handshake was much harder and quicker than Quatre's though. "Good to see you," he said simply.

Trowa then looked down to Quatre and said something about having to run an errand before it got too late. Quatre nodded and said goodbye. Then . . . Trowa kissed him.

Quatre's head only came up to about his solar plexis, so he had to stoop over to kiss him. I watched the brief kiss with silent amazement, and Duo began to chuckle slightly. Quatre looked over to see what was so amusing, and he realized I was still standing there. "Oh, Heero . . . " he said a bit nervously, "I forgot, you didn't know . . . "

"Why should he care?" Trowa interjected strongly. It was less of a question to Quatre than it was a threat to me. I knew he was trying to say I shouldn't care, and if I did there would be a problem.

Quatre just smiled gently to him, "You better go before the hour passes . . . "

Trowa nodded and headed toward the door, "Sorry I can't stay to catch up . . . "

With Trowa gone I took a look around the store. It was narrow, but continued on pretty far toward the back. The walls were covered with any instrument you could imagine: violins and violas, flutes and oboes, piccolos and pianos, even guitars and drums. The building seemed old, and the shop was packed so tightly, it felt like an antique store. I could see in the back room behind the counter Trowa had been working on tuning some violins.

"I have horrible news," Duo told Quatre, "My building burnt down . . . all that was left in my apartment was this," he raised up the small metal box and placed it on the counter.

"Oh my goodness!" Quatre exclaimed, "are you all right?"

"I'm fine, luckily I was visiting Heero while it happened . . . But some of my neighbors didn't make it. This Hispanic family across from me, the parents died,"

Quatre raised a hand to his mouth, shocked, ". . . And, the little deaf boy . . . ?"

"He was fine, but, he's orphaned now. A social worker took him, I suppose he'll be put up for adoption,"

"The poor boy," he said gently, shaking his head slowly, ". . . At least your safe, and so is your box," Quatre seemed to know it was somehow important to Duo.

"Yeah," Duo grinned, "it was a good thing I used a fire proof one,"

I wanted to know what was in that box. Why was it so valuable to him? Did he have his life savings in it? Most people would put their money in the bank for safe keeping. It was a mystery.

"I better find out where I'm crashing tonight," Duo went on.

"You can always stay with us," Quatre offered.

"No, I couldn't. I don't want to get in the way of you two lovebirds," Quatre smiled gently and blushed at the remark.

"You can stay with me . . . " I said it without really thinking.

"Really?" I could see he was excited, "Well you do have enough room . . . And you were looking for a pet," Duo laughed.


End file.
